


Theory of Justification

by sacae



Category: Saint Seiya, Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: Crossover, Gen, I made sure it still makes sense even if you haven't read Saint Seiya, M/M, ygoshipolympics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-17 20:13:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4679849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sacae/pseuds/sacae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Man,” Yuuma complained aloud, during a snippet of time when they were just—on a boat, traveling. It was a small break, somehow, that let them just lean on the ship’s rails and rest. “I can’t even imagine a spastic, clumsy guy like that living in some palace in the underworld. Wouldn’t it be all dark and dreary? His hair wouldn’t go with anything.”</p>
<p>for the YGO Ship Olympics prompt "nostalgia (bonus: crossover)." Saint Seiya AU where Astral is Athena and Vector is the vessel of Hades. (Pandora is 96.) canon familiarity with Saint Seiya not required</p>
            </blockquote>





	Theory of Justification

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to reiterate that Astral is Athena and 96 is Pandora, and also both of them are referred to with she/her pronouns. apologies for any confusion/distraction that comes of it

Yuuma shouldn’t have even had the right to be here, but Athena had insisted, flat-voiced but with sharp eyes, and no one could have argued with her even if she hadn’t been the goddess of war. Even though she was normally such a stickler for doing things by the book, he had a feeling she knew what was coming, and so here he was, a Bronze Saint, the lowest rung on the ladder, in the temple of the oracle. Kaito was here, too, clutching at his brother’s hand, and it was probably the first time anything like that had ever happened—someone holding onto the oracle of Delphi’s hand like a lifeline as his eyes went absolutely white and his head tipped back and he announced,

_”The Holy War is upon us once more.”_

\--

“Look at that,” said the girl beside Vector, who looked, he thought more and more, uncannily like a dark-haired Athena. She gazed up at the ray of light coming from the temple of the oracle, with a smirk on her face that looked a little strange to him, like it didn’t reach her eyes. “You got left behind again. Doesn’t this happen more often, lately?”

Something in Vector’s chest clenched. It wasn’t a normal clench, but painful, like a monster he couldn’t see really was reaching inside of him and grabbing a hold of his lungs and heart and _crushing_ them, and it hurt more and more every time he met with her. But he knew she was just worried about him—and it was a little nice to be worried about, even if she went about it harshly.

“They’re not leaving me behind,” he corrected her, pulling up a shaky smile over the pain. “We’re friends, but they’re both really important. They’re going to save the world. I’m not a fighter, so I can only help from here.”

For some reason, she laughs.

“What?” he asks, startled. “What did I say, Pandora?”

\--

Vector wasn’t the same anymore. Technically, Yuuma knew that, even without meeting him again. Vector wasn’t even _Vector_ anymore—he was _Hades_ , Lord of the Underworld and leader of the specter army. Even if it hadn’t been for Athena’s low, impassive voice advising him so at every turn, Yuuma would know perfectly well just from the waves of soldiers sent to attack the Sanctuary that Vector wouldn’t be anything like the kind, overly friendly and honest villager he had grown up with.

But it was different seeing him. The vivid, fiery color of his hair had bled away into an ash gray, and he looked _down_ at them with a completely foreign expression. It didn’t fit under Vector’s huge, bright eyes. The clash of familiar and unfamiliar made Yuuma want to throw up.

“Pegasus Yuuma,” Hades regarded him, and the formality of it was so weird that Yuuma _hated_ it but he didn’t think he would be able to stand it if he called him “Yuuma” normally instead. “Phoenix Kaito. Sea Dragon Nasch,” he continued. And finally, “Athena.”

“Hades!” Yuuma roared, finding his voice, but no sooner than it was past his lips Athena had already lunged forward, her golden staff swinging down onto his ink black sword with a ringing clang of impact.

\--

“Vector’s gone!” Even though they were childhood friends, he was a saint and she was his goddess, now more than ever—Yuuma had to remind himself of it, to stop himself from reaching out and shaking her. “I just went to his house—his mom says she hasn’t seen him in days!” Athena’s eyes went momentarily wide, and then the expression cooled and faded.

“I can give you leave to look for him,” she answered, “but we can’t afford to spare anyone else.”

“Wha…” Screw decorum—before he even thought about it, he grabbed her by the shoulder. “What are you saying? He’s your friend too!”

She didn’t even shake him off. Didn’t even flinch. “The protection of the Sanctuary is the highest priority in this war. That’s why the specters have been attacking so relentlessly. We have to focus all of our strongest forces on defending.”

“Stop talking about strategy! Aren’t you worried? Vector is gone! Ever since this Holy War started, it’s like you stopped feeling anything!”

Athena’s lips pursed, and Yuuma—Yuuma, who had grown up with her, who had watched her tiny shifts in expressions for years and had taken ages but finally, one day, figured out how to read them—abruptly realized he was wrong. Athena hadn’t changed at all—she had always been stone-faced and awkward and too serious and too old for her age, ever since she was a child. She was a goddess, raised with grown men kneeling to her before they spoke, spending every year of her life waiting for that oracle’s decree. She had been in this war all along.

“I have to arrange an agreement with Merag Solo,” she said, and Yuuma almost got angry all over again—until she conceded, before he could respond, “Find Vector. For both of us.”

\--

He never got the chance. Barely hours later, a battered and wounded Silver Saint came bearing the identity of the new vessel of Hades.

\--

The Sanctuary was under attack. No one had expected it this early, before Hades had even revealed himself—attacks on mountain paths or small towns was one thing, but the Sanctuary itself should have been too ambitious without their leader to command them. The village was ordered to evacuate as quickly as possible, and Vector lingered as long as he could, helping others who were old or injured and couldn’t run as quickly. As the last of his elderly neighbors made it into the relative safety of the trees, he turned and his eye caught on the red and white of Yuuma’s armor.

“Yuuma!” There was still time. None of the enemies were nearby yet. He ran to him without hesitation, hoping to— to— to do _something_ , anything to support him by his side. Yuuma turned to him with wide eyes, and some part of Vector’s brain thought _please._

“Vector!” But already Yuuma’s brow was drawing together with worry, even before Vector skidded to a stop just a few yards away. Almost there. Almost. “What are you still doing here? You’ll be in danger!”

“I—I want to help!” Even from the slight distance still left over, he could watch Yuma’s face slide to surprise, and then a smile.

“I get it. But you have to get somewhere safe! What’ll really help me out right now is if you let me protect you!”

He couldn’t say anything. He couldn’t say anything to that.

Quickly, Vector gave a full nod of his head. “I understand! You’ll beat them back for sure!” And—he smiled, more real than he thought he could have managed. “Besides Athena, you’re the strongest person I know! Pegasus Yuuma!”

“Hey! What’s with that ‘besides Athena’!” But Vector, laughing and feeling somehow better, had already turned to run back to the woods.

The moment he entered the shade, he felt someone’s breath against the nape of his neck. “Did they tell you to run and hide?” He spun around, stumbling over a root and fighting to keep his feet on the uneven ground. Pandora was there, following behind, not as close as he’d thought she was. “There was nothing you could do for them, _right_?”

“That’s not true,” he argued, stepping back, but it felt numb and hollow even as he said it. Pandora waved a dismissive hand through the air.

“Oh, they’d dress it up nice for _you_ , but the Sanctuary doesn’t really care about anyone _disposable_. In the end, they really think you’re just a burden!”

“That’s not true,” Vector said again, and realized that he had slowly backed himself into a tree, while Pandora still strode steadily closer. It was hard to focus—he was crying, he realized, there were tears blurring his sight and stinging on his cheeks. He could barely think from the pain in his chest, and yet everything she said rang out so clear in his head.

“Oh, but they’re wrong,” she promised. “They just don’t understand your true nature. _I_ do.” She reached out and placed a finger against the pendant she had given him when they first met, a few years ago, when Yuuma and Athena had been away on a journey. “They think you’re someone who belongs on the sidelines, but you’d never be satisfied there.” He thought he saw flowers, suddenly, wreaths of white petals and leaves bordering his vision. “You belong on a _throne_!”

And everything went black.

\--

“Man,” Yuuma complained aloud, during a snippet of time when they were just—on a boat, traveling. It was a small break, somehow, that let them just lean on the ship’s rails and rest. “I can’t even imagine a spastic, clumsy guy like that living in some palace in the underworld. Wouldn’t it be all dark and dreary? His hair wouldn’t go with anything.” Even though he was joking, it just sort of hurt to say, but Athena faintly smiled and it spurred him on. “Remember how much he apologized when he found out you were Athena? Just think about if he knocked over some statue in there. The Emperor of Darkness, wailing about how sorry he is!” Her smile dimmed out again, just like that, and the sense of loss in Yuuma’s chest was starting to feel too familiar.

“Yuuma. Hades chooses the boy with the kindest soul on earth to be his vessel, each time he returns.” He could see that, he thought to himself, being Vector. “But they don’t keep their personalities. Unlike Poseidon, by now he has taken over Vector’s body entirely. When we next meet, the person in front of us won’t be Vector.”

Yuuma’s gut lurched, and not because of the ship’s rocking as it made its way across the sea. “But,” he insisted, without even considering otherwise, “there’s a way to get him back, right?”

“There is,” she reassured him. It was a relief to hear, but didn’t calm him down, and even though it was only the space of a breath it felt like ages before she continued. “If we can expel Hades from him, then he’ll be his former self again. I should be able to do it,” she said, maybe more to herself, as she looked at her hand, “without harming him.”

It felt—like the first, or just the brightest burst of hope he’d had, starting from the time Haruto gave the announcement. They could beat Hades and get Vector back, all in one blow. He trusted Athena absolutely—if there was a chance, she could do it.

Things could go back to the way they were before, with the three of them.

“Yeah! All right!” He pushed away from the rail, pumping his arms at his sides. “We’re gonna win this Holy War for sure!”

\--

The heavy disk of Athena’s staff slammed into Hades’ gut, the blade of his sword skimming past her hair. A shocked whuff of air escaped his lips, eyes gone wide, and she forced it harder against him, trying to push the god’s soul out—his whole body flew back instead, rolling when he hit the ground, nearly falling on the sword that was still clutched loosely in one hand. A little ways away, Yuuma craned his head to look while struggling to lift himself up off the ground, watching Athena’s back as she advanced, raising her staff once more for the decisive blow.

“W—wait!”

Athena froze.

Athena froze, but Yuuma pushed himself up with newfound strength—that voice was too high, too loud and uncertain and desperate to possibly be Hades. It _had_ to be— “Vector!”

“Yuuma,” he answered, plaintive and pleading, trying to sit up himself. Yuuma rushed to his side, dropped to his knees with a _thud_ and reached for his shoulders to steady him.

“Vector,” he repeated, elation completely erasing the pain of his wounds. Vector grasped at him wordlessly, fingers curling against his armor, trying to find a handhold, and with blind, stupid joy welling up in his eyes, Yuuma started to think _he’s still clumsy_ —

just as the dark blade of Hades’ sword slid straight through him.

“Yuuma,” said Vector again, and he _smiled_ up at him, wide and bright and lively even with eyes that barely reflected the light. “I can end this war.”


End file.
